There was always something weird to me about this commercial from the first time I saw it. Am I the only person who sees a dollop of hidden unrequited love in little sister's eyes? Like a sick, kinda disturbing, "he's your brother, you sicko' kinda twinkle? I personally don't have a brother, but I imagine if I did, I wouldn't not immediately tear into a present from him with the sappy reasoning that he was my present. Because he's not my present. He's my brother. If anything, his being home is a present to my parents. Not to me. I'm still pissed at him for telling his best friend that I had a crush on him because I thought he looked like JC from *NYSNC four years ago when I had acne and braces and that always lingers with me whenever I see his stupid, dumb face. I imagine. I do believe that coffee has healing powers and that sometimes all you need is that one cup of piping hot caffeine to slap you in the face and make you realize that Christmas isn't about gifts and ribbons and bows and Scotch tape. It's about ... well, it's about coffee. Of course.